But he pulled on the pants, stretching his body to fit them, weirded out at how tall he had to be to fill them.
"Being rubbery? Still rocks."
He was going to be sad when it went away.
Darius inspected his own shirt, wincing at the smell of champagne and mixed perfumes. "God, I must have smelled like a whore last night." Of course, there might be a good reason for that. "I wish other people would keep their fucked up families to themselves. I've got a big enough fucked up family of my own."
But he rinsed his shirt out in the sink, rubbing over it with the bar of soap, tossing it on wet. "Better than nothing."